A SYMBOL OF OUR [IM]MORTALITY

Ash Wednesday. The first day of the Lenten season.

A season I once ignored, but over the recent years have come to find meaning in.

Valentine’s Day.

A day I once celebrated, but over the years have chosen to ignore.

Yet this year the days seem to have aligned in a perfect balance.

Today the country will be filled with red hearts and chocolate, roses and little girls dressed in pink, couples getting dressed up for fancy meals in fancy places.

All in the name of love.

Given and received.

And at the same time, somewhere in between, will be those who are entering in to a season of less, of reflection, of yielding. To relinquish what is dear and loved. To let it go. To mark it by smearing our foreheads with that which is from the earth. To remember our humanity. To acknowledge our place as broken humans - naturally covered in dirt, in ash, in death. To withdraw with Jesus into the desert. To identify with hunger and temptation. To walk with him down the Via Dolorosa towards death.

All in the name of love.

Given and received.

Love given to a God, and love received from a God who has found us in the desert; who fed us, clothed us, and forgave us; who led us into victory at the end of a hopeless road; who wiped clean the ashes of death from our foreheads with his breath of life.

Today we receive ashes as a symbol of our mortality, in reverence and remembrance.

And as you pass the hearts and roses, may you be reminded of a love that has transcended our dirtiness and brokenness and re-routed the road that once lead to death towards eternity.  

Today, let love be a symbol of our immortality.

May you experience more of Jesus as you reflect on the love of God this Lenten season.

EXAMEN THE YEAR

Photo: K. Dagen

Examen the year
from one to twelve;
the gain, the loss, the freedom felt.

Exit the year
from twelve to one;
nothing the same as when it begun.

Enter the year
from one to twelve;
months, tribes, apostles.

Even

Clenched fists lead
to a loosened grip.

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Further Reading: Rummaging for God: Praying Backwards through Your Day

SINNERS AND SAINTS VI

The omnipresence of God does not rely on our feelings. We can sit and be still and rest in the presence of God without actually feeling him. His being does not rest on our state of being. His love is not swayed by our state of responsiveness. We can be confident that his love towers over us, even when we are not overcome with the same emotion. We can still declare that he hears us, even if we can't quite seem to hear him. We can trust that he still searches and knows the thoughts and needs of each mind and soul, even on the days when its hard to utter a single word to him. 

LIGHT

Photo: K. Dagen

the most precious resource 

on december 21

is light.

and on december 22

we exhale, assured

that today there is more of it

and tomorrow even more and 

more and 

more after that,

until the world is 

aflame with redemption.

“I have come into the world as a light, so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness.”

— John 12:46

These words of Jesus' came in the midst of a confusing time, a deciding time, in which those who had been hearing his teachings and believed him had to decide whether they valued their own convictions over the praise of men (Pharisees). His words are a statement of hope for those struggling to break out of the chrysalis of expectations their Jewish world had built around them.

Yet, only days later this hope appeared to end as Jesus died a criminal's death. But as we know, this end was not in fact the end, but a fulfillment; it was not just the death of Jesus but the death of death's ultimate power over humanity. 

This story of hope is familiar to us, as are Jesus' words about light. But on the Saturday before the resurrection, it was not yet a story of hope. It was a story of darkness.

Often the story of our world seems like a story of darkness. In Advent, a season of waiting and longing in our chrysalis for the light to break through, the weather and the church calendar can appear to agree: the world is bleak and dark.

But December 21st, the winter solstice and darkest day of the year, is like the Saturday before the resurrection. Except unlike the disciples in the first century who weren't sure what the next day would hold, we know! Even when we don't see evidence of what is hoped for, the complete restoration and redemption of the world, we know Jesus has come - and so we hope and we wait for the light to increase. We bask in hope like the light of the sun, which we cannot create, but only behold and enjoy.

The light is coming, the light has come, the light is growing longer and brighter every day. Jesus is the light. He is coming, he has come, and he will come again. On literal and figurative winter solstices, let us remember he is still at work in the world. Let us be people who love the light, who live in the light, and anticipate the amplification of it.

---

BY SALLIE MCCANN

Sallie lives and works in Lancaster, Pa. She loves the natural world, reading, writing, walking, and her fiancé. Her undeniable passions are Mary Oliver, tea, and talking. Sallie shares her poetry on Instagram @sallieforth 

A WISDOM FOUND, A BATTLE WON

Lord, I ask for more of your Wisdom. I don’t understand. Please, impart on me Your wisdom. I want to better know Your voice. Is this of You? Help me discern. 

These are prayers I often pray. Sometimes, these prayers are very specific. Sometimes, they are general. I have been influenced by a church culture that teaches us to expect an immediate "download" of knowledge. When I ask for these things, I expect immediate answers. Immediate results. 

Impart on me your wisdom NOW, or I might not get through this day…

Hey, God can do this. And does. His power is supernatural. He will give us this day our daily bread. And sometimes, that does include immediate knowledge.

But if we also think of wisdom from more of a historical human perspective, we know that wisdom is usually the result of learning, and learning is often best done through experience. We consider to be wise those who have gone before us; those who have wrestled the beasts of life that now sit and wait for the young to come upon their path.

Lately I have found myself completely baffled by the outcome of a variety of situations. Not just one, but many. As I was reflecting on the timeline and the happenings of these things, I was overcome one day with a peaceful realization that I have gained so much wisdom, despite feeling like a floundering fish through it all.

And then I was further struck with a revelatory Truth.

“You asked for it," said the revelatory Truth.

Indeed I had asked for it. I had asked for Wisdom. A week ago, a month ago, a year ago...

The wisdom I have gained is life-altering. It's opening up a pivotal moment for me, giving way to true character change, if I let it.

After months of confusion, doubts, and even pain, I can see clarity and healing on the horizon. I feel hope stirring in the wind. I understand. I have received.

I have received so much of the Wisdom that I had been asking for, but it was not immediate. It took a little more confusion to see more clearly.  It took being tempted by a voice I do not know to be reminded of the voice of my Shepherd. It took re-breaking the bone for the wound to properly heal. It took time. Things I thought were good were taken away so God could replace them with something better. 

If you really ask and seek the Wisdom of God – lifelong, life-altering Wisdom, not just seeds of comfort scattered on the surface – expect to get thrown into the battle. Expect to dance with the enemy. Expect to dine with the evil one. And let the wisdom that comes from a lived life unfold over the weeks, months, years…

---

It is fascinating to me that the oldest written book of the Bible is Job, a story of an upward and righteous man whom God allowed Satan to test through a series of confusing and painful trials.  Many people can get put off that God would allow such things to happen to Job, despite his life of dedication.  It is tempting to view it as some kind of unjust punishment.

But, to put it in a different light, a deep intimacy can be seen in the relationship of God and Job. God does not hand Job over to Satan to punish him. He hands him over because he knows that Job can withstand the task, and thus prove the enemy wrong. God’s knows from the beginning that Satan can never have His beloved.

If you are God’s child, like Job, he will allow these things to take place. Not out of disregard or neglect for his children. But to show to the prince of the power of the air that he can never have them. That his children are resilient.

You cannot take My children away, look what they can do…

If anyone dares to tamper with them, go ahead, they will only become stronger.

They will only becoming wiser.

SINNERS AND SAINTS V

This speaks so much to joy. When we are fully alive, we best represent the image of Christ in us. We are created in the image of God, with unique talents, gifts, and passions that help give us life.

Yet it also speaks to our brokenness. It reminds us that something isn't quite right, because it's HARD to be or feel fully alive most days. It reminds us of our almost endless inconsistencies, of our deep-rooted need for God. 

Lastly, it speaks to heaven, to the Kingdom fully realized, when the Glory of God will look like all of his Children, fully alive in His light, love, and nature.

OUR CUP →

I stood on the deck smoking my pipe, despite the light drizzle falling from the nearly night sky, slowly turning from gray to black. Tonight I can’t shake the restlessness that is usually only a light breeze, barely noticeable, but that sometimes comes in gusts I cannot ignore. And tonight I can’t ignore it. I wonder why longing and desire, yearning and ache, are often so vague and ambiguous, formless and shapeless. Yet they are unseen giants that blot out the sky, invisible ghosts felt but not known. Whatever they are, they follow behind me and lead in front me, they remain ever present as the days pass. I have no name for these nameless emotions lodged in my gut. The years of wandering have put them there. And the years have given what they never take away. The path is not always clear, the journey not always forthright in where it wants to lead us. The words desiring voice remain stuck in my chest, like smoke in the lungs, waiting to be exhaled. My greatest fear is of a wasted life, of meaningless years lived in insignificance.

I don’t trust my heart much anymore; I don’t even know if I believe in what it holds. What if I’ve always been waiting to follow my heart, instead of believing, trusting, acting, in order for my heart to follow me. It’s always been up to me, it’s always been my choice. My heart may not be ready, but I’ve always been. Not a day has passed when I haven’t had enough, when I haven’t been enough. We’ve all been given something; it’s a disservice to ourselves and others to wait for our hearts to move us, to wait until this or that moment, to wait for this or that alignment of the stars. My heart, a moment, the universe itself, these do not dictate my actions; my heart’s inconsistencies, the moment’s brevity, and the universe’s vagueness do not give me any excuse to put off what I have the ability to do right here and now, in the present. All of us, we’ve been given a cup, large or small, full of blessing, of magic, of love, meant to be poured out.

And my cup is full.

Have you ever looked back, staring into that glorious expanse or dark abyss, and wondered: What does it all mean? What was it all for? Is there purpose, is there meaning, to my past, to all of my experiences? I’ve asked these questions for many years and wondered in silence about the answers. I’ve wrestled with the significance of what I’ve seen, and felt, of where I’ve gone and what I’ve done; of the light I’ve sailed upon and the darkness I’ve borne the weight of. In many a black night of restlessness of the heart and wandering of the mind I’ve asked, What do I do with… all of this? 

For all of us, the question of greatest significance is this: What are we to do with what we have? Or, greater yet: What are you doing with what you have?

Our minds, our hearts even, they play tricks on us, they deceive us, they lie to us, attempting to persuade us of the reality of some untruth. Yes, sometimes they speak in honesty, but sometimes they do not. We cannot afford to be led astray by the darkness — manifesting confusion, discouragement, fear, doubt, and unbelief — when we are called (to be) children of light. All of us, we have a cup, full of light and life to be given, not hidden. We all have something, if only some thing, to give.

As for me, I’m fighting to no longer listen to the aforementioned darkness and all of its manifestations of deception, and instead to believe in, walk in, and disperse this light; this light I cannot always see, but believe to be. I’m going to pour out from this cup and from it give what I have, whether little or much. I’m choosing to believe it contains something worth spilling, that I have something worth saying; if I don’t, I am untrue to myself, and (even if inadvertently) saying that my Creator has made me and given me less than enough; and I am withholding blessing from a world in need of light and life. Could it be that I am even withholding from the world Jesus himself, seeking to love (the world) through me?

And my cup, though small, is full. 

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BY NIELSEN GREINER

Nielsen lives in Big Sky, MT and loves to play in the mountains. He enjoys reading, writing, music, and traveling. He appreciates good beer and good coffee. You can read more of his thoughts on his blog, a Kingdom built of seeds.

UNSHAKEABLE REMAINS

The day it happened, all was bright.

As she reflected on the day’s beauty, the warmth of the sun soaked her skin. She delighted in days like these. Not only does the world become brighter, more alive, but so do her dreams, her activities, her work, her relationships. She looked around at the little world she has built for herself. She smiles and takes a deep breath of the cool air. Yes, it’s good.

Despite the apparent perfection that day, she could not ignore a familiar nagging deep within her; a lingering ebb and flow of a feeling she has never been able to pinpoint. Something was not right. Yet to confront the feeling would be to lose the moment. She chose to push the feeling to the side.

She heard it first in the distance. A slow rumble. Could there be a storm approaching? But how? The sky was still so blue…

Another loud blast resounded and echoed off the mountains, closer to her now. This was not a storm. Her heart finally began to pound with a curious fear. Anxiously, she scanned her surroundings as her mind tried to make sense of what was happening. The blasts were coming closer, louder, faster, and she could do nothing but stand in the shock of complete and utter terror.

Almost as if in a dream, the essence of herself and her world was presented before her. She saw all that she loved; things she herself had built and created. Scattered among them were lies she believed. There were fears she was giving into. She saw the things she was holding on to. She saw the things she should have kept.

There was no time for comprehension. No time to react. She closed her eyes, covered her face and head in her arms, and waited until the destruction passed through.

The nagging feeling she couldn’t pinpoint transformed into a voice, first a steady whisper, growing, reverberating up and out of her until it filled the air around her.

This is not of Me!

The things she loved and built explode from their foundations.

This is not of Me!

 All she held on to is loosened and ripped from her grasp.

This is not of Me!

Lies and fears are leveled to the ground. 

And then all becomes still, silent.

Her ears ring as if a bomb had gone off. The world has gone black – she can see nothing around her. Has she gone blind?

She tastes the salty mix of blood and tears on her lip. As she lifts her hands up to feel her head, the pain of her bruised body sets in. As the dust and smoke clear, so does her vision. The horizon ahead reveals a leveled landscape. All that once was is gone.

Like her shaking, the ground still trembles beneath her feet in the traces of aftershock.

Beneath her feet.

She is still standing.

---

A man walks up beside her, but she did not see where he came from. He says nothing to her as he starts to clear away the rubble around her.

Finally, He looks at her.  With teary eyes He says, “I’m sorry, child. This had to be done. “

She cannot muster up the strength to respond; she continues to watch Him work.

“I would like to rebuild this with you. “

She takes a step forward.

She takes a step toward Him, unshakeable.

Only she and Him remain.

SINNERS AND SAINTS IV

When you are so deeply rooted, although all that has once surrounded you has crumbled to the ground, you remain standing, bruised and bloodied perhaps from the violent debris, but still upright, as you gaze out upon the flattened and desolate destruction of what once was, unshakeable.

All may be stripped, but deeply rooted, one thing will always remain, the glimpse and hope of a Kingdom that will never fall.

GRACE AND GOLDEN RETRIEVERS

There are a lot of different theories as to why God created the animals with whom we share this earth, but I’m pretty sure I’ve figured out the real reason. Because He knew how stupid and stubborn humans would be.

Okay, wait. Just let me explain. We don’t give animals enough credit for how much they know and understand - especially in regards to the spiritual realm. After all, God created them, too. I think He gave them an extra dose of heavenly wisdom so that maybe, hopefully, cross your fingers, we could learn something from them. But we have to be willing to watch and listen. 

The other day I had a wedding to attend, and as a result I ended up leaving the golden retriever I am currently caring for at home for a lot longer than I intended. As the minutes ticked by and the hours passed, the guiltier I felt. She’s probably so lonely. Is she hungry? Did she think I left forever? I think I forgot to leave a light on for her. She is probably super mad at me. 

I returned home with my chest heavy with guilt. But when I opened the door, I was greeted by the happiest, bounciest dog in the world, her whole body wagging with her tail, jumping up to give me kisses. It was as if she was just meeting me for the first time. I was instantly relieved by her massive display of affection. And then the word GRACE came flooding into my mind, and as I looked into those big brown eyes I swear I saw the face of God. He spoke to me and said, “I AM like this. This is how I love you.”

I tend to forget the vastness of God’s grace and love for me. I tend to put limits on it, which only produces that sense of guilt and failure. I want to return Home, but I am afraid of what I will find. The truth is, it doesn’t matter what we’ve done, and it doesn’t matter how long we’ve been gone. God will stay Home and wait for each and every one of us. And when we finally get there, He will greet us with a wagging tail and a sloppy wet kiss. 

So the next time you leave your dog alone for a long time, and they greet you with a ferocious love – know that our God is doing the same thing.